This was a worker's world, not a poet's, and people would have a hard timeunderstanding Noah. America was in full swing now, all the papers said so, and peoplewere rushing forward, leaving behind the horrors of war. She understood thereasons, but they were rushing, like Lon, toward long hours and profits, neglectingthe things that brought beauty to the world.
Who did she know in Raleigh who took time off to fix a house? Or read Whitman orEliot, finding images in the mind, thoughts of the spirit? Or hunted dawn from thebow of a canoe? These weren't the things that drove society, but she felt theyshouldn't be treated as unimportant. They made living worthwhile.
To her it was the same with art, though she had realized it only upon coming here. Orrather, remembered it. She had known it once before, and again she cursed herselffor forgetting something as important as creating beauty. Painting was what she wasmeant to do, she was sure of that now. Her feelings this morning had confirmed it,
and she knew that whatever happened, she was going to give it another shot. A fairshot, no matter what anyone said.
Would Lon encourage her painting? She remembered showing him one of herpaintings a couple of months after they had first started going out. It was an abstractpainting and was meant to inspire thought. In a way, it resembled the painting aboveNoah's fireplace, the one Noah understood completely, though it may have been atouch less passionate. Lon had stared at it, studied it almost, and then had asked herwhat it was supposed to be. She hadn't bothered to answer. She shook her headthen, knowing she wasn't being completely fair. She loved Lon, and always had, forother reasons. Though he wasn't Noah, Lon was a good man, the kind of man she'dalways known she would marry. With Lon there would be no surprises, and there wascomfort in knowing what the future would bring. He would be a kind husband to her,and she would be a good wife. She would have a home near friends and family,children, a respectable place in society.
It was the kind of life she'd always expected to live, the kind of life she wanted to live.
And though she wouldn't describe theirs as a passionate relationship, she hadconvinced herself long ago that this wasn't necessary to be fulfilled in a relationship,even with a person she intended to marry. Passion would fade in time, and things likecompanionship and compatibility would take its place. She and Lon had this, and shehad assumed this was all she needed. But now, as she watched Noah rowing, shequestioned this basic assumption. He exuded sexuality in everything he did,everything he was, and she caught herself thinking about him in a way that anengaged woman shouldn't. She tried not to stare and glanced away often, but theeasy way he moved his body made it hard to keep her eyes from him for long. "Herewe are," Noah said as he guided the canoe toward some trees near the bank. Allielooked around, not seeing anything. "Where is it?"
"Here," he said again, pointing the canoe at an old tree that had fallen over, obscuringan opening almost completely hidden from view.
He guided the canoe around the tree, and both of them had to lower their heads tokeep from bumping them.
"Close your eyes," he whispered, and Allie did, bringing her hands to her face. Sheheard the baffles of the water and felt the movement of the canoe as he propelled itforward, away from the pull of the creek.
"Okay," he finally said after he'd stopped paddling. "You can open them now."
sat in the middle of a small lake fed by the waters of Brices Creek. It wasn't large,maybe a hundred yards across, and she was surprised at how invisible it had beenjust moments before.
It was spectacular. Tundra swan and Canada geese literally surrounded them.
Thousands of them. Birds floating so close' together in some places that she couldn'tsee the water. From a distance, the groups of swans looked almost like icebergs.
"Oh, Noah," she finally said softly, "it's beautiful.''
They sat in silence for a long while, watching the birds. Noah pointed out a groupof chicks, recently hatched, following a pack of geese near the shore, strugglingto keep up.
The air was filled with honking and chirping as Noah moved the canoe through thewater. The birds ignored them for the most part. The only ones who seemedbothered were those forced to move when the canoe approached them. Alliereached out to touch the closest ones and felt their feathers ruffling under herfingers.
Noah brought out the bag of bread he'd brought earlier and handed it to Allie.
She scattered the bread, favoring the little ones, laughing and smiling as theyswam in circles, looking for food.
They stayed until thunder boomed in the distance‐‐faint but powerful‐‐and both ofthem knew it was time to leave.
Noah led them back to the current of the creek, paddling stronger than he had earlier.
She was still amazed by what she had seen. "Noah, what are they doing here?"
"I don't know. I know the swans from up north migrate to Lake Matamuskeet everywinter, but I guess they came here this time. I don't know why. Maybe the earlyblizzard had something to do with it. Maybe they got off track or something. They'llfind their way back, though."
"They won't stay?”
"I doubt it. They're driven by instinct, and this isn't their place. Some of the geesemay winter here, but the swans will go back to Matamuskeet.”
Noah paddled hard as dark clouds rolled directly overhead. Soon rain began to fall, alight sprinkle at first, then gradually harder. Lightning ∙.. a pause.., then thunderagain. A little louder now. Maybe six or seven miles away. More rain as Noah beganto paddle even harder, his muscles tightening with every stroke. Thicker drops now.
Falling... Falling with the wind... Falling hard and thick . . . Noah rowing . . . racing thesky.., still getting wet.., cursing to himself.., losing to Mother Nature... The downpourwas steady now, and Allie watched the rain fall diagonally from the sky, trying to defygravity as it rode on westerly winds that whistled over the trees. The sky darkened alittle more, and big heavy drops fell from the clouds. Hurricane drops.
Allie enjoyed the rain and leaned her head back for a moment to let it hit her face.
She knew the front of her dress would soak through in a couple of minutes, but she
'didn't care. She did wonder, though, if he noticed, then thought he probably did. Sheran her hands through her hair, feeling its wetness. It felt wonderful, she feltwonderful, everything felt wonderful. Even through the rain, she could hear himbreathing hard and the sound aroused her sexually in a way she hadn't felt in years.
A cloud burst directly above them, and the rain began to come down even harder.
Harder than she'd ever seen it. Allie looked upward and laughed, giving up anyattempt at keeping dry, making Noah feel better.
He hadn't known how she was feeling about it. Even though she'd made the decisionto come, he doubted that she'd expected to be caught in a storm like this.
They reached the dock a couple of minutes later, and Noah moved in close enoughfor Allie to step out.
He helped her up, then got out himself and dragged the canoe up the bank farenough not to drift away. Just in case, he tied it to the dock, knowing anotherminute in the rain wouldn't make any difference.
As he was tying the canoe, he looked up at Allie and stopped breathing for just asecond. She was incredibly beautiful as she waited, watching him, completelycomfortable in the rain. She didn't try to keep dry or hide herself, and he could seethe outline of her breasts as they pressed through the fabric of the dress that clungtightly to her body. It wasn't a cold rain, but he could see her nipples erect andprotruding, hard like little rocks. He felt his loins begin to stir and quickly turnedaway, embarrassed, muttering to himself, glad the rain muffled any sound of it.
When he finished and stood, Allie took his hand in hers, surprising him. Despite the
downpour, they didn't rush toward the house, and Noah imagined what it would belike to spend the night with her.
Allie, too, was wondering about him. She felt the warmth in his hands and wonderedwhat it would be like to have them touch her body, feeling all of her, lingering slowlyacross her skin. Just thinking about it made her take a deep breath, and she felt hernipples begin to tingle and a new warmth between her legs. She realized then thatsomething had changed since she'd come here. And although she couldn't pinpointthe exact time‐‐yesterday after dinner, or this afternoon in the canoe, or when theysaw the swans, or maybe even now as they walked holding hands‐‐she knew that shehad fallen in love with Noah Taylor Calhoun again, and that maybe, just maybe, shehad never stopped.
There was no uneasiness between them as they reached the door and both of themwent inside, pausing in the foyer, clothes dripping.
"Did you bring a change of clothes?"
She shook her head, still feeling the roll of emotions within her, wondering if itshowed on her face.
"I think I can find something here for you so you can get out of those clothes. Itmight be a little big, but it's warm." "Anything," she said.
"I'll be back in a second."
Noah slipped off his boots, then ran up the stairs, descending a minute later.
He had a pair of cotton pants and a long‐sleeved shirt under one arm and some jeanswith a blue shirt in the other.
"Here," he said, handing her the cotton pants and shirt.
"You can change in the bedroom upstairs. There's a bathroom and towel up there tooif you want to shower."
She thanked him with a smile and went up the stairs, feeling his eyes on her as shewalked. She entered the bedroom and closed the door, then set the pants and shirton his bed and peeled everything off. Naked, she went to his closet and found ahanger, put her dress, bra, and panties on it, and then went to hang it in thebathroom so it wouldn't drip on the hardwood floor. She felt a secret thrill at beingnaked in the same room he slept in.
She didn't want to shower after being in the rain. She liked the soft feeling on herskin, and it reminded her of how people used to live long ago. Naturally. Like Noah.
